Mary, homemaking, cookiebaking demon hunter
by supernatural-rox-4ever
Summary: What if Mary wasn't the one killed by the yellow eyed demon that night in Sam's nursery?
1. prologue

Author's Note: until the "00000000000000000000000", if any of the people reading this haven't seen the first episode of Supernatural, it is the same as the beginning of the first eppy. The rest is a what-if. What if Mary wasn't the one that died that night in Sam's nursery?

Please read and review

Prologue

It was nighttime. Mary Winchester and her older son Dean were in their two-storey home in Lawrence, Kansas, putting baby Sammy to bed.

"Come on Dean, say good night to your brother," Mary gently set the four year old on the ground.

"Good night Sam," Dean said as he bent over Sam's crib.

"Good night love," Mary whispered and kissed her baby son.

"Hey Dean," John Winchester's voice sounded from behind.

"Daddy!" Dean ran over to his dad. John picked Dean up and tossed him slightly in the air.

"Hey buddy," John replied. "So, you think Sammy is ready to toss around a football?" he joked.

"No, daddy," giggled four-year-old Dean.

"You got him?" Mary asked her husband as she made her way out the room.

"I got him," John answered. "Sweet dreams, Sam," John turned off the light and left the room.

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John was awake in his bed, unable to sleep. He was thinking of going downstairs, to watch a war movie, or whatever was on TV. His wife Mary was downstairs, baking something that smelled really good. Just as John was about to get up, he heard crying coming from the baby monitor standing close to Mary's side of the bed. He got up and went over to Sam's nursery. Through the doorway, he could see a dark figure standing by Sammy's crib.

Mary was taking her muffins out of the oven, when an angry shout pierced through the house, "Get the hell away from my son!" John yelled. Mary dropped the tray of muffins on the ground and ran upstairs.

She entered Sam's nursery. Sammy was lying quietly in his crib. She took her son into her arms. Her heart was pounding, and she was hoping with all she had that she was wrong about what was happening right now. Mary backed away from the crib, holding baby Sammy closely to herself. A small, crimson drop fell from the ceiling, landing on the edge of the crib. "No… it can't be…" Mary whispered to herself, tears welling up in her eyes. Mary looked up. There, pinned to the ceiling, was John. "No! JOHN!" Mary screamed. She ran to Dean's room and grabbed her older, half sleeping son. Not letting panic take over her, Mary ran out of the house. With an explosion of fire and heat, the window of the house burst, flame-covered glass falling to the ground barely missing Mary and her children.

Mary sat on the hood of her black, '67 impala, her sons sitting silently on her lap. Mary tried not to cry, to stay strong for her boys' sakes. She was overwhelmed by guilt that she didn't do anything to save her husband. But there was nothing she could have done. John was gone. The yellow-eyed demon killed him. There was nothing left for Mary to do but to go back to hunting evil.


	2. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I have like five variations of this chapter. Please tell me what you think about this chapter by reviewing. Should I keep it or should I make it completely different? Thank you people who have reviewed or read my story so far.

Chapter One

"And," Mary finished off the bedtime story she was reading to Dean, "They all lived happily ever after."

"So the family put rock-salt in the gun to repel the demon?" the five-year-old boy asked his mom in fascination.

"That's right, Dean," Mary said as she tucked Dean into his bed and kissed him goodnight.

"Can you tell me that story again, mommy?" Dean pushed the blanket aside and sat up in his bed.

She shook her head, "It's bedtime."

"Just a little?" Dean really enjoyed the weird, scary stories that his mother was telling him, about ghosts, demons, and how to kill them. Mary didn't reply. "Why did that family hunt evil?" Dean asked all of a sudden.

"Because when the children were small… a demon, he took their daddy," Mary's voice drifted off.

"You mean like in our family?" Dean shifted in his bed.

"…yes," Mary said quietly.

"Only the family in the story, the children aren't boys like me and Sammy. They are girls," pointed out Dean.

"That's right, sweetie," Mary sighed, remembering that family in the story. She was lying: they didn't all live happily ever after. "Good night, Dean," she whispered.

"Good night mommy," he replied. Mary took another glance at her boys, sleeping peacefully in the new apartment they lived in. The lives she wanted for them flashed before her eyes. Mary wanted her children to be happy, to live normal lives, get a good education, get married and have kids. With the evil out there, following this family, it didn't seem possible. She promised to herself, though, that no matter what, she wouldn't raise her sons as warriors, like that family in the story – the family consisting of Mary, her mother and her sister. But she had to start by teaching them to fend for themselves, against the things that could hurt them. When she married John Winchester, she thought that hunting evil was in her past, but now it looked like her past wasn't going anywhere. Mary turned off the lights and left the room.

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For the next three years, Mary made sure that Sam and Dean lead a normal life by day, going to school and living in a nice home. While the boys were at school or kindergarten, she would go out and hunt every single evil thing she could find. Before they came back, Mary would already be at home, making something good for the boys to eat. After Dean would finish his homework, Mary took them out to the park or something. There, she told them more stories about how to protect yourself from demons, ghosts and other things that go bump in the night.

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One spring morning, nine-year-old Dean was sitting in his classroom at school, staring out the window, into the bright blue sky. Instead of keeping his mind on the math lesson the teacher was teaching about ghosts, demons and the other stuff his mom taught him. "Dean?" the teacher asked, "What is five times three?" Dean was off somewhere in his mind, thinking about what his first hunt would be like. "Dean Winchester?" the teacher repeated. Still no answer. "DEAN!" the teacher banged her fist on Dean's desk.

"What… oh, sorry," he mumbled.

"Well, what is your answer?"

All of a sudden, one of the desks standing in the front row of the large organized classroom shot up to the board, clashing into the wall. Terrified gasps erupted from Dean's classmates, followed by screams as more desks slid loudly to the front of the room.

"Staff and students," the principle's voice sounded on the PA system, "Do not panic, but something very strange is happening in the school. Stay low on the ground and do not leave the classroom. We will keep you updated for what is happening, and the police are on their way."

"You heard the principle," the teacher, her face pale from fear, snapped at her students, "Get down on the ground."

Everyone did as they were told. Everyone except Dean, who quickly made his way towards the exit. "Where are you going? The principle said to stay in the classroom," the teacher yanked Dean down to the floor.

"I have to find my brother," Dean explained, and got up again. Sam was supposed to be in the school kindergarten program.

"You have to listen to authorities," the teacher found herself saying a very familiar sentence she used almost every day with Dean. Dean didn't care what he was told. He ran out of the classroom and into the hallway. He looked down the hall, at the end of which was his mom, holding down the school janitor and reading an exorcism.

"Mom!" Dean shouted as he ran over to her. Mary smiled at Dean and continued with the exorcism. Suddenly, the possessed janitor fell to the ground, his throat slowly splitting open. "What's going on?" Dean asked, breathing heavily.

"I don't know yet," Mary frowned, "Go find Sam." Dean ran down the eerily empty school corridors, to where Sam was

"Let me in!" Dean banged on the locked door of the kindergarten. He already called ten times, and still, no one came to the door. Then, Dean remembered what he took from his mom's dresser drawer this morning. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out. He pointed the small handgun loaded with rock salt at the door, his hand shaking rapidly. Without thinking, he pulled the trigger. A hole appeared in the door, just big enough for Dean to pass through. "No! Sammy!"

The exorcism book in Mary's hands turned into a shiny butcher's knife, blood dripping off it. Sirens of police cars sounded, and before Mary noticed what was going on, she was surrounded by cops. "You have the right to remain silent," one of the cops handcuffed her.

Mary let the knife drop out of her hands, "I didn't do this!" she shouted at the cops.

"Sure you didn't. That's what they all say," the cop responded coldly.

Dean stood in the doorway of the kindergarten classroom, watching in horror as something lifted his baby brother into the air. Without any hesitation, Dean aimed the gun at the dark cloud lifting Sam up and pulled the trigger. The cloud burst into pieces and Sam fell to the ground. "Sammy?" Dean ran to his brother.

"Yeah?" five-year-old Sam tried to get up.

"Are you okay?" Dean helped Sam get up, and they headed out the door.

"Yep," Sam replied after a while, "just a little scared."

But Dean wasn't scared. He always wondered what his first hunt would be like. This was it.

"I swear, I didn't do this!" Mary yelled again.

"Dean, why are those police officers arresting mommy?" Sam asked shakily as the scene got into their field of view.

"I don't know, but I'm gonna find out," Dean ran up to his mom, Sam following.

"Boys," Mary said, ignoring he cops that were trying to take her to a car. "I love you. Be careful," she said softly, "And whatever happens, don't let anyone split you up."

Then, some other cops grabbed Dean and Sam, "mommy!" both boys yelled as they were being pulled away.


End file.
